The Loner

The Loner

Due to a divorce agreement between my adopted parents I was shuttled between two couples for as long as I could remember, until I was eighteen, because they both remarried. One family, the one on Arizona St., had a degree of insight into my character. The other family didn't have a clue. Not fitting in somewhere makes you a keen observer. You note every expression, every tone, and each gesture, to compute all the implications. But you're always on guard and not likely to express your own opinion, so when you finally get old enough to express yourself, it’s misinterpreted as being petulant or stubborn. My dad, (the remote one) asked me to attend something I was uncomfortable with, and I said no. He got huffy when I resisted going along with his program, and said,

"Steven, you're a loner."

Of course, I wasn't. I liked the kids in National City. Some of my fondest memories are with them, playing in the canyons and staying out late at night. It was the second family I was uncomfortable with. Just examine the statistics and do the math. Two days out of fourteen means you're not really there. Nothing of mine was at their house, no toys, no clothes, not one jar of bubbles. It felt like a hotel with a family already in it, but the family wasn't mine. I was always keen to return home on Sunday night but I knew how to get along when I was with the remote family on Friday nights and Saturdays, where the court-ordered weekends was almost like doing time.

"He's a feeling arranger and a changer of the way he talks."

Of course I was. That's how I got along with strangers. I knew how instinctively. After all, I was the ultimate stranger myself.

©StevenHunley2016

https://youtu.be/NvbLbqtJ2ZA The Loner Neil Young

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The Loner